


Moonstruck

by Anonymous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: moon·struck/ˈmo͞onˌstrək/adjectiveunable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love.A silver-headed boy stood in the distance, surrounded by clouds of gray and symphonies of smoke. He was emotionless, his face emitting the feeling of boredom and reluctance. Surrounding him was an otherwise blue sky, one that he seemed to be floating in. He was standing there, in the middle of the sky, in mid-air, as if gravity had no hold on him.He looked ethereal. Like an angel sent from above. Perhaps it was the constellations covering his cheeks, the ones that Changbin swore were hand crafted by God himself, or perhaps it was the dignified way he stood - with regality and elegance, of course, still mid-air. His arms were laying by his sides, the fabric from his clothes lightly making contact with the palm of his hand.Also known as, a Changlix AU wherein Changbin falls in love with a boy he has only met in his dreams.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: hiatus





	1. the silver-haired boy

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfiction for stray kids! fyi, english is not my first language. I am good at it, however, if any words sound out of place or if my grammar sounds flawed at some points im sorry! im learning everyday.
> 
> i hope you all enjoy moonstruck! :)

A silver-headed boy stood in the distance, surrounded by clouds of gray and symphonies of smoke. He was emotionless, his face emitting the feeling of boredom and reluctance. Surrounding him was an otherwise blue sky, one that he seemed to be floating in. He was standing there, in the middle of the sky, in mid-air, as if gravity had no hold on him. 

He looked ethereal. Like an angel sent from above. Perhaps it was the constellations covering his cheeks, the ones that Changbin swore were hand crafted by God himself, or perhaps it was the dignified way he stood - with regality and elegance, of course, still mid-air. His arms were laying by his sides, the fabric from his clothes lightly making contact with the palm of his hand.

He was dressed in all white clothing. Covered in silk from top to bottom, he looked as luxurious as an expensive drape. The fabric swayed in the wind, but the boy did not move. Attached to his waist was a lone red scarf, and Changbin thought the bright red contrasted well with the innocence of the boy.

He stood out, most definitely. Changbin has had a various collection of strange dreams before. Once, he dreamt of what could only be described as a past life. Changbin recalls dreaming of a wide green field, the peacefulness of the scene countered by the utter hell happening atop of it - he was at war. A beautiful carved sword in one hand and a shield in the other. He remembers the heavy weight of the sword, how whenever he woke up he would still feel the invisible weight in his hands. 

He remembers seeing the same boy there, as well. He would be much like he is now, emotionless, watching from afar, observant almost, taking account of everything happening. Like a watcher. He blinked a couple of times, and that was the only thing that kept Changbin persistently aware of his existence. Other than that, the boy blended in fairly well. Not well enough to be able to pass as a background character in the play that is his dream, though. In those dreams he was often seen riding on a horse or sitting by a step, his unblinking eyes never leaving his. 

Changbin had thought of speaking with the boy many times. Lucid dreaming was sort of normal, he knew that, but he did not think dreaming up strangers as vivid and realistic as the people you knew in real life was normal. He wasn't sure why the thought of him didn't freak him out, but the fact that he looked cute as a button did not help. "Maybe I've seen you in a movie or something," Changbin said out loud, hoping the echo of his voice would travel the distance to him.

He didn't respond and merely blinked in response. "Progress!" Changbin silently gave himself a pat on the back. 

Changbin put up four fingers, counting them each out loud. "Four times now. That's four times you've blinked. I don't know how long I've been asleep for, but isn't that kind of weird? Do your eyes not get dry? You should blink more. For your own health.. and stuff."

Again, he was met with silence. This time, not even a blink. Just the boy's dead-fish stare that seemed to read him like a book. He felt strangely vulnerable in that moment. He scratched the back of his head and sighed, breaking the eye contact he had with the boy. If this was a staring contest, he would have lost seven dreams ago. He tsked and looked away. "...Well, that sucks." He muttered under his breath. 

"Do you like jokes?" Changbin asked into the open. He sat down on the ground, patting the open sky beneath him. The boy's head moved with him. "I've got a coupla good ones stashed away in my pocket - you a fan of dad jokes? Don't speak if you like dad jokes."

"...."

He continued, taking his silence as a sign of agreement. "Perfect! How many apples grow on a tree?"

"...." 

"All of them! Get it? Because apples grow on trees?"

"...."

"...So you're not a dad joke fan." Changbin pouted. The tips of his ears were dusted red. "You should have told me." He said, quietly. 

Changbin was beginning to give up. All he did was stand there and refuse to speak, as if his mouth was zipped tight by some force he didn't know about. This had been happening everyday for a week, and it was just getting odder and odder as the time went by. Changbin missed when he had normal people dreams. 

It was time to wake up.

He closed his eyes and rested his entire body. He relaxed himself, starting with his toes, and going all the way up his legs, to his upper body; his arms, his hands, and eventually his head. This was how he knew to leave the lucid dream state. He had a gut feeling it was about time to wake up, anyways. He inhaled and exhaled, the sound of his breathing reverberating throughout the dream world. He was sure the other boy could hear him.

Once he opened his eyes, he was in his world. The non dream world. The boy was gone, he was in bed, the birds were chirping, and all was normal. He turned to the side of his bed and grabbed his bedside clock, checking the time. It read 9:35am. 

He quickly got up, rushing to put on a pair of pants he left out last night. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why didn't my alarm go off?" He whispered to himself, putting one leg inside the wrong pants leg. He corrected himself and did so for the other leg, pulling up his pants so that it fit the right way. He grabbed a random shirt off of his bed and put it on, not minding the color or design. He was too late to worry about whether he looked cool or not. 

He rushed downstairs, grabbing his keys and making a beeline for the door. He had a 10am class, and it was, he checked the time on his phone, 9:47am. The usual drive to his university took about 10 minutes, give or take, which would leave him 3 minutes to run to class at the fucking speed of light in order to make it. He decided he could deal with the embarrassment that came with running through his campus.

He arrived at his university with but 5 minutes to spare. He wasn't a speeder, mind you, but the Goddess of Traffic was on his side today. The roads were mostly clear, as if they formed a path just for him. He entered his parking space and locked the door behind him, checking the time on his phone once more. It read 9:54am. 6 more minutes left. He speedwalked to his class, ignoring the slightly concerned looks from the passer-bys. Changbin was never one to care about what others thought of him, anyways. 

He opened the door to his classroom. The familiar murmuring of the hundred students or so in the lecture room filled his ears. He let out a sigh of relief. If he had been late one more time, his professor would've thrown a fit. Despite the many, many students in his class, he always seemed to pay special attention to Changbin, to his misfortune. 

Changbin sat down at the seat besides his friend. He gave him a slight wave and reached behind him for his backpack, his hand meeting the air. He froze suddenly, and his face became pale. "You good bro?" His friend asked, waving his hand in front of his face. Changbin groaned out loud, burying his face in his hands. "I forgot to bring my dumbass backpack." He mumbled underneath his breath. He let out a tired sigh.

His friend giggled. He seemed to be enjoying the situation. "Aww." He started, speaking in a mocking voice, "don't insult your poor backpack like that." That earned a playful shove from Changbin, to which his friend exaggeratedly bit his fist. "You're so mean to me. Your only friend. So small, yet so filled with hate."

"Shut up Jisung."

"Yes sir." 

"Also we're the same height."

"Actually, Changbin, you're a little bit smaller than me. You can't tell since you're too small to see above my head, but I can."

Changbin rolled his eyes. "We'll talk more about this later, Ji." Jisung laughed nervously. "Okay... Binnie." 

Their professor's coughing interrupted their conversation. Everyone's attention was now on the professor and the teaching assistant, who had a remote in his hands. A projector was hung on the wall above them all, underneath it a vintage looking clock that was behind an hour. "How the hell am I supposed to take notes now?" Jisung fetched his laptop out of his backpack. "I don't know, record it on your phone?" Changbin waved him off. "My phone barely has any storage left. I can't even take pictures anymore." 

"Delete your pictures then." Jisung advised, typing furiously. Changbin shook his head. "Never. You never know when you're gonna need something in there."

Jisung hummed. "Your loss, then. Good luck remembering the notes." Changbin shoved him again. "Screw you." The brunet grinned. "Kidding, kidding! I'll share my notes with you when I'm done. You can grab my phone to record the lecture if you want." Changbin gave him a supportive pat on the back. "Thanks dude. Will do." 

Changbin grabbed Jisung's phone from his backpack. The screen suddenly lit up, showing a text he had just received. Changbin wasn't one to snoop, but he'd never heard of this person before, and from the message sent in the text, they seemed to be awfully chummy with Jisung. "Hey Ji," He began, putting the phone down for a second, "you have a text from someone. Want me to answer?" 

"Depends. Whos it from?"

"Someone named Bomin?"

Jisung let out a surprised squeal. He instantly covered his mouth. "...Don't answer." He replied, resuming his typing. Changbin raised a brow. The ends of his smile curved, and while Jisung wasn't looking at him, he could tell he was in for it now. "Who's Bomin?" He said in a teasing manner. "Does our little Ji have a b-b-boyfriend?" Jisung didn't reply. He made a locking motion with his hands, as if he was zipping his mouth shut. He threw the metaphorical key into the air. Changbin continued his teasing. "He's wondering if you got home safe, by the way. Dude sounds sus to me. The way he types is weird."

Jisung raised his voice slightly at Changbin's attempt at baiting him. "He's not my boyfriend! I only met him yesterday. And I like the way he types."

Changbin's face lit up. "Oh! So you're interested in him! And he types like an old man." 

The brunet face palmed himself. "Why do I speak. Also I'm telling him you said that." Changbin shrugged. He didn't really care. "Tell me what he says about me."

Jisung shushed Changbin. "This section of the lecture is gonna be on the test. Shut up and record." Changbin sighed but obeyed. He rested his chin on his hand and began to daze off, the monotonous voice of his professor slowly lulling him back to sleep. It took everything he had to not take some shut-eye right then and there.

Their professor was going off on a tangent about something, like all professor's do during lectures. He could make out the names Aristotle and Plato - names he truly did not care about. This particular class was centered on philosophy, so Changbin didn't take much mind to it. He only needed it for his history requirement. He enjoyed the hands on classes more, like the chemistry class he had in a couple hours. Though today they were only going over some notes for an upcoming exam, so Changbin wasn't looking forward to it very much.

He looked at the large clock across from him, pretending that the hour hand was at its right place. Thirty minutes had passed since he arrived and he was zoning the professor out for almost the entire time. 

If there was one thing Seo Changbin liked about philosophy, though, it was the philosopher's ever-growing need to question things. Whenever he'd be forced to read about one of them for an exam, they always spoke about how they doubted the world around them, questioning the sheer existence of themselves and of everything else.

Changbin? He was a doubter. A skeptic. He was never one to blindly trust things, something that came in handy at times. He held the same logic towards his emotions, something his friend says is an "unhealthy coping method." In his heart, he knew that, but he simply did not know of any other ways to think. 

Hiding your emotions behind a locked door that you tell yourself does not exist sounded much easier than keeping it open for everyone's viewing pleasure. He liked that part of philosophy. But the rest was an absolute snooze fest. 

His chin slipped from his spot in the palm of his hand and made contact with the table. This resulted in a loud 'thunk' noise reverberating throughout the large lecture hall. Everyone's eyes were instantly on him, and Changbin wanted to shrink in his spot. "Mr. Seo?" His professor began. The TA changed the slide to the next one. "Are you still with us, Mr. Seo?" 

Changbin stood up slowly. "Yes sir.." He replied. He wasn't afraid of speaking up, but having 100 pairs of eyes on him with no warning was a lot to take in. He felt slightly intimidated. He looked down at Jisung, who was giving him a pitiful look. He tugged at his shirt for support. The professor smiled. "Good. Mind giving me a summary of what we were talking about just now?" 

"No thanks. I'm good." Changbin could hear the snickers of a couple students nearby. He sat down and slumped in his seat. He could feel his face redden. 

"Dude..." Jisung started.

"Why does he like calling me out so much?" Changbin complained, turning to face Jisung. Class was almost over at this point, and people were beginning to pack up. "This is like, the 5th time this semester. A bunch of other students don't pay attention either but they don't get public callouts..." 

Jisung shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, man. Maybe he just doesn't like you." He closed his laptop and placed it in his bag. He placed his hand out for his phone, which Changbin handed him. 

Changbin pressed his lips tight. "I mean, what isn't there to like about me? I think I'm great." He said. Jisung didn't have it in him to respond.

"..Anyways, wanna come over to my place later?" Jisung inquired in an attempt to change the topic. "I'll invite Minho. Remember him?"

"Minho? The ex Minho?"

"No, the other Minho. Cat boy Minho."

"Oh, him. He's cool. Sure. Is he gonna bring his cats this time?" 

Jisung snorted. "Funny. You think he'll let his babies out of his sight? Nope. It's gonna be just him."

Changbin gave him a thumbs up. "Got it." They both exited the lecture room and walked towards the main doors leaving out. They shared their next class as well, which was in about three hours. It was the chemistry class Changbin was looking forward to. To kill time they'd usually hang out at either of their houses to relax and chill, something they didn't get to do often. 

Jisung took his phone out. "I'll shoot Minho a text. Should we order pizza too?"

"Hell yeah, dude."

They exited campus. Jisung lived nearby, at a small village of apartments reserved solely for college students. It was only a 15 minute walk, but the time went faster as the boys chatted. They talked about every ranging from their day to their creepy neighbors to the ghost Jisung keeps hearing upstairs. Changbin wanted to tell him about the dreams he'd been having, but how does someone introduce that? _Hey, Ji, whenever I go to sleep at night, I dream of this boy I've never seen before. He just stands there and stares at me. It's kind of weird, but he's cute so I'm not that scared of him. Woo!_

He inwardly cringed. He was gonna take his dreams to his grave. That, he was sure of.

"Yess!" Jisung cheered. "He's on his way. And he said he'll bring the pizza."

They were nearing Jisung's place. His apartment was across the street from where they were currently standing, the only thing separating them being the crosswalk and a stoplight. Jisung was standing still, humming a song that appeared on his playlist. They were patiently waiting for the light to turn green. That light took an unnecessarily long amount of time to turn green, he noted.

"Ow - hey, watch where you're going." Changbin said suddenly, breaking their comfortable silence. Jisung took one earbud out and looked up at the commotion, spotting a flash of blond pass by. The person paused for a moment.

A quiet voice spoke up, muttering a quick "sorry" before they walked onto the street, completely ignoring the people around them.

The street light hadn't changed, and neither had the path of cars on the street. This person was walking into the direct path of traffic. Changbin's eyes widened. "Hey! Stop!" He shrieked, quickly reaching his hand out to grab them out of harm's way. They escaped his reach, however, and kept walking forward without a care in the world. 

The person walked farther the street. Cars didn't stop for them, and Jisung closed his eyes in horror. Whatever it was that was about to happen, he didn't want to see it. Changbin looked on in terror, unable to look away. 

To his surprise, the person didn't get hit by a car. The drivers didn't seem to notice anything wrong. Rather than that the people besides them looked at the duo as if they were insane, exchanging whispers to eachother about the two boys who were making a scene in front of the crosswalk.

The light turned green and Changbin nudged Jisung, who slowly lifted his hands away from his face. 

"They... disappeared?" Changbin questioned. This person was there one second, and gone the next. It was as if they disappeared into nothingness. He blinked and they were gone, and everything was normal.

Jisung unlocked the door to his apartment and collapsed onto the couch. Changbin followed, leaving the door wide open. 

"Changbin?" Jisung spoke. His voice was soft, something his friend was not used to hearing.

"Yeah?"

"Did you see that?"

Changbin slowly nodded. "..Yeah."

"Did we just see a ghost?" 

"Uh.. maybe?"

Jisung blinked. "Well damn." 

"Why are you so freaked out? Don't you have a ghost friend upstairs?"

A small smile found its spot atop Jisung's face at the mention of the ghost upstairs. "That's mostly me fucking with you. It's just my stupid neighbor from my writing class. But this is for real. Did we just see someone disappear into thin air?" 

Changbin didn't know what to say. Yes, they had seen someone disappear into thin air. And it was only them, apparently, that had seen the random sprite, according to the reactions of the students next to them. He simply shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Ah. I'm moving out. I swear. This is next level creepy." Jisung stood up and went into his kitchen. He came out with two glasses of icy water, handing one to his friend who accepted it graciously.

Jisung's phone pinged. He picked it up. "Minho's here! He could've just came in though. You didn't close the door, right?"

Changbin shook his head. "Nope. I'll go greet him though." 

He stood up and put his glass on the kitchen counter. He walked towards the door before stopping in his tracks, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest. "Dude. The door's locked. On the inside." 

This got Jisung's attention immediately. "Inside? How? I... Nevermind. This is way much to think about right now. Let's just eat pizza, play Mario Kart, and forget about the demon haunting me." He pushed the odd thoughts to the back of his mind. 

Changbin, though slightly shaken up, agreed. He carefully opened the door, welcoming his old friend into the apartment. He had a mischievous grin on his face and two boxes of pizza in his hands. The aroma was somewhat calming. "Changbin! It's been a while." Minho greeted. He took his shoes off and placed the pizzas on the table. He pulled two bottles of wine from his pockets. Changbin closed the door behind him, but not before peeking his head out of the door to see if anyone was nearby. The hallway was empty.

Jisung happily took the bottles. "Wine? Dude, we have a class later." He replied jokingly. Minho cheerily waved the bottles in the air. They made a clinking sound once they touched. "Not anymore! Skip."

Changbin and Jisung looked at each other. "Alright." They said in unison, to Minho's delight. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drunk-off-his-ass boy in front of him seemed very normal, though, with his fiendish grins and frat boy-like alcohol obsession. Very different than who he was two years ago. He wondered if this was the impact of being around Jisung for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for alcohol use //

"Another one! Another one!" Cried Minho, who was currently drinking his worries out all over the counter. He was laying directly on top of it, his limbs splattered all over the polished granite. Jisung was fast asleep at this point, having passed out four shots in. He was dead asleep on the ground, cuddling a fluffy throw pillow. Changbin could see drool stains all over it. 

Changbin sighed and handed Minho the wine glass. Minho quickly downed the shot, letting out a satisfied 'ahh.' "I'm beginning to remember why we lost contact." Changbin mumbled, facing the older man. Minho preened at the comment. "You're so boring, Binnie. Have a drink!" He pushed a glass towards Changbin. He quickly pushed it away from him.

"No thanks. I don't wanna be like you." 

Minho giggled. "Your loss! Ji and I had fun~"

"You're going to regret this so much later..."

"I have never - _hic -_ regretted anything - _hic -_ in my life. Okay?!" He slammed the glass on the table, making Changbin jump in his seat a little. 

Changbin rolled his eyes. "Uh huh."

"You just - _hic -_ need to have fun, you know? like Jisung and I." _hic._

Changbin glanced over at the boy passed out on the floor. He was giggling in his sleep and mumbling about a boy, something Changbin found to be slightly creepy. He was definitely going to make fun of him for this later. "Oh you two must have had so much fun, huh." He said sarcastically, turning back to Minho. 

"That's what I've been - _hic -_ trying to tell you!"

Changbin found Minho's drunken charades to be quite entertaining, considering this was a side of him he'd never seen before. He knew the older man from high school, but their paths never converged. Jisung was their mutual friend. He knew almost everyone in their little high school, being the social butterfly that he was.

Minho was an enigma. He was a lone wolf in high school, always one to travel without a pack. He loathed interacting with others, and Changbin remembers a specific instance where he straight up walked out of class when paired up with a random kid for a class project. He remembered how the poor kid instantly started crying before Jisung offered to invite him into their group. 

Minho skipped class often as well, though he managed to keep almost perfect grades. He retained one of the highest GPA's in school while barely attending class. Changbin always thought he was a weirdo. Which is why he thought it was weird of Jisung to befriend Minho, of all people. 

The drunk-off-his-ass boy in front of him seemed very normal, though, with his fiendish grins and frat boy-like alcohol obsession. Very different than who he was two years ago. He wondered if this was the impact of being around Jisung for too long. 

"Binnie!" Minho shouted, interrupting Changbin's train of thought. He didn't like Minho's nickname for him, but he didn't see the point in correcting him when he was this drunk. "I almost - _hic -_ forget to ask. You and Ji saw a - _hic -_ ghost earlier? That's some creepy shit." 

Changbin sighed. "Not the damn ghost again... I don't know. We could've just been seeing things."

"How do you both - _hic -_ see the same ghost, then?" He said matter of factly.

Changbin held the small, empty glass in the air, eyeing it carefully as the liquid inside swished in a wave-like motion. "That's what's getting to me. I don't really know. I was thinking that this could all just be one elaborate prank set up by Eric or Haknyeon, but I doubt they'd put that much effort into a dumb prank. Plus, both of us seeing a strange figure disappear? I don't even remember what it looked like. It happened so fast. This all just sounds weird. I don't even know why it's getting to me so much. Jisung seems fine. It's just me freaking out."

"What do you think, Minho?" He asked out loud. He waited a couple of seconds with no response before putting the cup down. He glanced over at Minho, who to no one's surprise, had passed out on the kitchen counter. He was letting out soft snoring sounds, looking completely at peace with the world. He had never looked more serene in all the years that he'd known him.

"And then there was one." He said to himself. It was night time now, and they just finished a relentless day of playing video games, eating junk food, and drinking. He looked over at the clock, wincing slightly once his eyes landed upon the time. It read 2:23am. He was glad it was a Saturday and he had no class, but his sleeping schedule was most definitely fucked up now. Yikes. 

In Minho's hands was one of the wine bottles from earlier. It was a cheap liquor store wine that the boy always kept in stock at his apartment. It was practically empty, save for a little bit less than a third of it being left. "Fuck it," he began, grabbing the bottle and twisting the cap off. "If you can't beat them, join them." He threw his head back and chugged what was remaining in the bottle. The liquid instantly soothed him.

He began to feel himself getting dizzy. He was never a heavy drinker, so he preferred to avoid drinking when he could. But he felt oddly safe around the two guys he now considered his friends.

His eyes became heavier and heavier. The welcoming lull of sleep was calling him. 

"I wonder if I'll meet you again." He quietly whispered, his voice fading into nothingness as he finally dazed off. 

...

  
Again, he was in that odd place in the sky. Floating, like usual, above an endless terrain with no ground in sight. All he could see were endless miles of blue sky, converging neatly at the pretty boy in front of him who, again, merely did nothing but stare at him. Changbin was most definitely beginning to get tired of these dreams. He wanted to have a cooler dream, like a dream of him being a race car driver. That would've made for a fun dream.

The boy was wearing the same all white attire. The scarf attached to his hip swayed as it always did, no breeze in sight. This marked the eight day in a row that he's had this dream.

He wanted to try something new this time. Changbin has tried walking up to the boy many times, but a barrier separated them. He could never see it, but he definitely felt it in the way that he felt a shock crawl up his body, similar to the feeling of friction within a balloon. He recoiled in pain every time, all whilst the boy kept a straight face, as if he was looking right through him.

His dull, straight face. His dull little button nose that he wanted to boop so badly, and the stars that littered his plush cheeks. His stupid soft cheeks. 

Changbin wanted to get a smile out of him today. A blink was progress, but he wanted more. He secretly made a plan the other day, a plan consisting of egging the boy on until he had enough. And Changbin was ready to go through with it. 

He cleared his throat. "So, if you're not going to speak to me, then I'm just going to speak with you. For real this time." 

No reply, as usual. Changbin's confidence was unfettered.

"I'm gonna guess your name." 

"...."

"Now I know you aren't gonna like, actually tell me your name, so I decided to just list off a bunch of names until I hit the jackpot."

"...."

"Bomin, Chan, Jinwoo, Minseok, Jeongin, Minhyun..." Changbin looked over at the boy, hoping that one of the names he'd picked out would resonate within the boy. None of them did, apparently. His face was still a stone. "Damn it. You look like a Jinwoo." 

Changbin face palmed himself. Of course this wouldn't work. How could he guess the name of some random person like that? Unless he planned on trying out every name in the world, which he considered for less than a second, deciding that that would be dumb.

Changbin sighed. "Back to the drawing board it is, then."

"Maybe I should just tell Jisung about this." 

Changbin suddenly felt the tension in the air skyrocket. He looked over at the boy, noticing that he changed, if only a little bit. He looked paler, nervous almost. As if he lost his composure for just a second. But he was quickly back to his stone cold self, and if that had been anyone but Changbin, perhaps they wouldn't have noticed.

Jisung? That was it? If he mentioned Jisung just once, it would have made the boy do.. something?

Changbin took this as his chance. "Do you know Jisung?" He asked out loud, hoping the boy would reply this time. 

Rather then ignore his existence like he usually did, the boy looked down, choosing instead to stare at the sky floor. Changbin's heart skipped a beat. The boy knew Jisung somehow. That was useful. Changbin's never wanted to hug his friend so badly. 

Changbin looked over at the boy once more. "Jisung? Han Jisung?" He said, hopefulness lacing his words. 

The boy paled once more. His already pale complexion seemed to only get paler, but he quickly masked all symptoms of unease. He looked so nervous at the mention of Jisung, as if the name triggered a bad memory. Changbin took note of all of this. 

"My buddy Jisung. Do you. Know. Him?"

The boy's pale complexion slowly began to turn red. He suddenly looked up, his formerly brown eyes meeting Changbin's in a fury. His pupils widened and his iris's dilated, the iris of his eye shifting into a slit, much like a cat's. His eyes were now a dark red. Changbin took slow steps back, fear beginning to seep into his body.

He steadied his breathing. This was a dream, and he could always wake up. He was just in the dream world, and he was having another nightmare. 

He breathed in and out, the pressure around him surrounding him like a rope tied against his neck. He needed to get out, _now._

"One, two, one two..." he told himself, breathing in and out over and over again. 

He opened his eyes and he was back in the real world. He was wheezing heavily and placed a hand to his chest to steady his breathing, reminding himself that he was out. He looked around the room. 

He was in Jisung's kitchen. The clock on the wall read 3:34am, and it was still dark out. Jisung and Minho were asleep, their obnoxiously loud snores making up the only sound in the entire apartment, aside from the distant sound of a T.V that Changbin could only assume was from his neighbors. Changbin was back. 

He grabbed the bottle of alcohol and glared at it, shooting it into the trashcan across the kitchen. "Never drinking before bed ever again," he grumbled, eyeing the bottle with distaste. He glanced over at Jisung and Minho and walked over to the sofa, laying himself onto the plush cushions that seemed to welcome him. He positioned himself in between some pillows and a blanket, covering his feet with the soft cotton quilt. 

"The boy looked mad, but he was still cute. What's up with that? I want to be that cute when I'm mad." He quietly whispered to himself before letting the darkness of the night overtake him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> and thats the first chapter! feel free to leave comments about what you think, I love reading them and they're a huge motivation for me. i hope you have a lovely day!


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